


Swallow You Whole

by Marasy



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Begging, Biting, Bullying, Choking, Dom/sub Undertones, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mild Blood, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mpreg mentioned, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Self-Lubrication, Sibling Incest, Verbal Humiliation, hints of vore, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 07:43:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18868801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marasy/pseuds/Marasy
Summary: "Theodore, after all, was very nearly fucking mental.Telling his parents never came to mind, they were distant figures too busy to give a shit about him. His brother has been the only constant in his life, along with a hushed fear, a muffled anxiety thrumming under his skin like static."





	Swallow You Whole

**Author's Note:**

> uhhhhhhhhhh hi enjoy thank you for clicking me happy read

 

Elliot Miller had always been a little intimidated by Theodore. He was four years older than Elliot, taller and heavier with cold blue eyes that could see through just about anything. The way he walked resembled a panther’s prowl, which was scary enough without the thick coat of pheromones screaming _alpha_.

Even when reigning his pheromones in, even before he presented two years earlier than the average person, there was something about Theodore Elliot just found _unsettling._ Moments, when it felt like Theodore's smile was a touch too sharp, the darkness in his eyes too dark to be convincingly sweet.

 

Elliot had never actually outright feared his brother or thought Theo would ever hurt him. They'd been so close when they were younger, but even with the distance between them now, they were all the other had in terms of family. It’s one of the reasons why it was such a shock that when nine-year-old Elliot Miller pestered his big brother to let him sleep over at a friend’s house a few too many times, Theodore knocked him out with a textbook and locked him in the basement storage room before ditching the house with some friends.

 

Mr and Mrs Miller both rarely spent more than a week at home with their children every few months. They were both too absorbed in their work and own lives to care for that of others, even their own children. Which was why when Theodore returned home four hours later, he found Elliot an unconscious ball on the concrete floor of the storage room, illuminated only by the light from the hallway. The storage room light had needed to be replaced for a good couple weeks and Theodore had neither forgotten this nor cared.

The weight of pheromones in the room was stifling. Theodore had picked Elliot up, all delicate limbs and tear-stained face, to place him on his bed. It had been the last time Theodore had let Elliot into his room and the first night of Elliot’s life as an omega. His life has honestly never been the same since. What he’d gone through wasn’t exactly a proper heat – he was too young to start producing slick and his hypothalamus was yet matured enough to begin producing the hormones responsible for sexual desire. Instead, it was more a week of discomfort, fever, barely being conscience and an abstract yearning for coalescence. The alpha scent coating Theodore’s room felt like ice against his heated skin – soothing and relieving mostly, but biting and excessive as well. He had vague visions of Theodore coming in, bringing him water or food and hushing him when he was feeling particularly sick or oversensitive, but honestly doubted their accuracy. At the time, he’d felt pretty damn sure Theodore sincerely wouldn’t have cared if he’d died.

 

 

Going to school was a nightmare after his presentation as a male omega, even with weekly suppressant pills stopping his heat and scent diluters. The first day back, he’d been pretty open about it, although hesitantly so and his friends offered lukewarm comfort. The teacher gave the class a speech on secondary genders and prejudice and equality. It was kind of embarrassing, but not unbearable. Later, he’d realize it as pretty much one of the biggest mistakes in his life, and his friends who he’d thought would still recognize him as the same old “Ellie” either started to avoid him or mock him, like the rest of the class.

At first, it was little things: side-glances, pauses when he joined in on conversations, hesitance in people’s tone when they talked to him. Things got worse in high school, till he was being shoved against lockers, slapped around, isolated, openly mocked, threatened – mostly sexually by stupid alphas with stupid big egos.

He’d never seriously considered telling his parents – they were distant figures that came and went when they wanted, which was rarely. His brother has been the only constant in his life, along with the hushed fear, the muffled anxiety thrumming under his skin like static.

Every day was a gulp of water and Elliot was a drowning man. It was gradual, the decline in his self-esteem, happiness, hope; until the day it wasn’t and Amelia Long asked him to carry some things from the janitor’s closet at the end of the day.

Stupid, dumb, naive tenth-grade Elliot decided to follow her.

He got his ass locked in the spare janitor’s closet and in some ironic twist of fate, the single lightbulb hanging from the low ceiling was dead, like fate decided to reenact of his night as an omega.

 

 

...

 

 

His weekly suppressant was supposed to be taken yesterday but he’d run out of pills. A new batch was probably waiting for him at home but it wasn't like he had access to them at the moment. It’s literally Elliot’s worst nightmare all over again but shittier. Rendered blind in the dark room, he started out shouting and banging on the door, trying to slam it open with his slim frame. It tapered off to panic fast, till every breath he inhaled dissipated before reaching his lungs and he’d blink furiously, seeing nothing whether his eyes were open or closed. He’d been touching his lips with trembling fingers, dragging his hands against the floor to remind himself they’re there, that he’s real but nothing is quite convincing in the dark.

 

He’s drowning for real this time, he thinks, and the water’s so pitch black and absolute, he’ll disappear like he had never existed in the first place.

Time passes and he stands up again, his legs shaking so hard he has to grab at the wall to his right to stay standing, and by God, his hands brush against something plastic, glued to the wall. Elliot forgets to breath and for a moment, the closet’s dead silent.

Then he traces the rectangular shape and it’s a fucking phone. He doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or cry and what comes out is some sort of odd choking noise as he feels for the buttons, typing in the only number he knows.

The phone rings

 _one_  

_two_

_three_ times, and Elliot waits with bated breath, hope, a flower bud in his chest.

 

_“Hello?"_

 

A sob slips out before Elliot can stifle it – relief blooms in his chest and his body nearly sags to the floor.

“The-Theo,” he chokes out into the receiver. There’s a pause, then,

 

_“Where’s your phone?”_

 

Elliot exhales a breathy laugh. It feels like fresh air in his chest.“I left it in my class.” Before Theodore can hang up, interrupt him, or something, he rushes, “Hey, could you please stop by my school for a bit? I- I’m uh, I’m in the old janitor’s closet that no one uses anymore.”

 

 _“Why?”_ The reply sounds bored and Elliot can almost imagine his brother at one of his friend’s houses, barely bothering to listen to Ellie’s call in another’s company.

 

“I don’t know, someone must have accidentally locked the door when they noticed it was open.” he lies through his teeth and throws in a pathetic attempt at a chuckle, humiliation heavy in his gut. God, he feels close to tears already, and he coughs back the lump in his throat.

 

 _“No, why should I help you?”_ Theodore corrects him and there’s a grin on his face Elliot can’t see and he’s suddenly reminded of how dark the closet is and Jesus he needs to pee and Holy fucking shit, Theodore had better be joking.

 

“Are you fucking joking??” Elliot shouts and his hands are sweating against the warm plastic. “Theodore, fucking come get me.” his voice takes on a desperate tinge, trembling like he’s about to start crying again. _“Theo.”_

 

 

_“…Click.”_

 

For a moment, Elliot stands still in shock, deaf to the buzzing of the receiver signalling the call had ended. Then he chucks the phone at the opposite wall. The chord brings it back, and it bounces against the wall before stilling. He closes his eyes and when he opens them again and sees the same inscrutable darkness, he chokes out a laugh, because holy fuck, holy shit, what a fucking piece of shit. Elliot leans against the wall and lets himself slide to the floor in a slump. His body’s heating up and there’s slick dribbling from his hole but he can’t even fucking tell because he’s too busy ripping out his hair and screaming.

It was fifteen minutes later, when Elliot had been reduced to soft whimpers and moans that the lock to the door rattled open and the small closet was flooded with light from the hallway. He was hypersensitive of the heat pooling in his stomach and the burning of his skin.

 

 

_“Ellie.”_

 

Bleary-eyed, Elliot raises his head towards the voice. Inches away from his own, he's met by icy blue eyes, framed by dark curling lashes. In the darkness, they look black and Elliot’s frighteningly lucid – fear stilling his breath. Vague memories flash through his mind, the soft fur of a pet rabbit and hands drenched in blood, mangling viscera, and cold, dead eyes. Elliot scrambles back from Theodore’s reaching hands but they snatch him up greedily and he’s crushed against his brother’s chest, crumpled in his lap.

It’s easy to breathe in Theodore’s scent of evergreen and winter with him so close. It smells like home and the memories of gore fade slowly from Elliot’s near-delirious mind. The tension in his body eases away to scarce squirming. Every brush of Theodore’s fingers is a spark, every breath against his skin like ice against his feverish body. A whine rose unbidden from Elliot’s throat and he twists his fingers tightly into the fabric of Theodore’s shirt.

 

_“Th-Theo.”_

 

“Forgot your suppressants?” Theodore murmured into Elliot’s hair. The boy didn’t respond, but that was fine. The stifling scent of Elliot’s pheromones – petrichor and honey flooding the room and wet press of Elliot’s slick soaked pants against his thighs was telling enough.

 

…

 

He was laying in his bed, hands bound behind his back and ass shamelessly raised in offering. A small part of him, lucid despite his heat, screams at him to stop, to no avail. Teasing touches feel like ice upon his burning thighs and down his arched back – a relief from the consuming heat engulfing Elliot’s body. Every panting breath feels too loud in the quiet room. He gasps sharply, thrusting his hips at the hand suddenly grazing his weeping cock. A stinging slap against his ass stills him and Elliot nearly wails in frustration. Slick was sliding down the back of his knees and his glistening untouched hole was blinking at Theodore, begging for something to fill it up.

“Theodore, please!”

A hand twisted tight in Elliot’s brown curls, pulling his head back to bare his smooth, unmarked throat.

“Please what?” Theodore hummed against Elliot’s ear, nipping at it playfully. The heady excessive amount of pheromones charged the air with static, crackling along the brothers’ skin.

“Touch me, goddamnit!” Elliot cried. Flipping him onto his back with ease, Theodore grasped Elliot’s thighs and pushed till the omega was almost folded in half. Tear-rimmed soft grey eyes gazed up at him through long, wet lashes.

Theodore’s stomach twisted in delight, filled with the desire to mark, bite, mate. He shifted his focus to his little brother’s pretty, tight wet hole. Elliot squirmed uncomfortably in his grip, face flushed red and tear stained and eyes focused entirely on him. The picture is sacrilegious, obscene, and stained like wine in Theodore’s mind.

“Touch you here?” he asks, and there’s a hint of sly humour in his voice, wrecked and low with lust. Holding Elliot’s gaze, Theodore slowly licks a strip against Elliot’s hole, groaning at the taste of slick heavy on his tongue. Elliot breaks his gaze to throw his head back and moan, his small hands knotting themselves in the bedsheets by his head. God, Theodore was so fucking hard. He wanted to bite into flesh, he wanted to savour his brother’s sweet slick and swallow the boy whole. He could feel his incisors like needles in his mouth, made sharper than any betas or omegas to bite into his mate’s nape– to sink into the back of Elliot’s neck, taste his blood and mark him as his own.

Alternating between sucking and stabbing his tongue into Elliot’s hole, Theodore had the boy reduced to a sobbing mess beneath him.

“Theo,” Elliot cried, “please, I need something bigger”

With such a soft, wet cunt waiting to suck him in, what else could Theodore do but comply? Taking himself in hand, Theodore presses the tip of his throbbing cock against Elliot’s entrance. It wasn’t stretched as well as it should have been, but Theodore wanted it to hurt, wanted Elliot to ache and writher and cry, helpless beneath him. Elliot sucks in a breath, eyes widening when he feels the dripping head of Theodore’s thick cock against his hole.

“ _W-wait–_ ”

Wasting no time, Theodore thrust his entire length into Elliot’s hole. It enters smoothly, inch by inch even as Elliot screams, pushes against his chest, squirms – to get closer or away from him he can’t tell.

“It fucking hurts,” Elliot gasps, crying Theodore’s name like a mantra, clawing red lines down his brother’s back and twisting his soft hips. Theodore ignores him and sinks his teeth into Elliot’s nape, so close to marking him but not – until the copper taste of blood stains his mouth.

Elliot is warm and silky around his cock, his walls fluttering from the stretch, tightening from the bite. For a moment, Theodore imagines what it'd be like to slice the body open - a slit from the boy's throat to his groin - and twist his hands in hot guts, warm himself in the boy's blood and bring them closer together than they already are. He starts fucking the omega, pulling one of Elliot’s graceful legs over his shoulder as the boy moans, high and helpless. His knuckles are white where they’re gripping Elliot’s hips – hard enough to bruise as Theodore pulls them back and forth to meet his thrusting cock.

Theodore dips his head, taking a dusty pink nipple into his mouth and swirling around with his tongue. A lock of his hair slips from Elliot's fists, falls into his eyes, brushing against his brow. He ignores it, sucking hard on Elliot's flat breast to feel Elliot quiver in his arms before moving on to the other rosy nipple and doing the same. Tracing his teeth against the sensitive bud, Theodore bites down hard – enough to make Elliot scream but too gentle to cut into the flesh. The omega’s a panting mess beneath him, tears streaming down his face and a constant _“ah, ah”_ slipping from his spit-glossed lips.

Starting above Elliot’s belly button, Theodore licks a path up to the omega’s collarbone, tasting the salty sweat and arousal from the boy’s soft skin. Theodore laps lazily at the blood sluggishly flowing from Elliot’s shoulder from his bite and the omega whimpers, barely audible over the constant slapping of flesh against flesh.

“You were made for this, to take your big brother’s cock up your fucking cunt, huh?” Theodore teases, watching hungrily as Elliot quivers on his cock, blinking at him so prettily under those wet lashes. Elliot's curls bounced with each shake of his head, till Theodore squeezes a hand warningly around Elliot's neck, shutting up Elliot’s feeble attempts at denial. The omega’s pink cock is leaking precum profusely, bobbing up and down with each brutal thrust of Theodore’s hips.

Elliot’s panting and mewling, pressure in his lower body starting to grow overwhelming. The leg on Theodore’s shoulder falls to wrap around the alpha’s waist, entwining them further as Theodore kisses away the tears in Elliot's eyes. Reaching out unsteady hands to grasp at Theodore’s face, Elliot pulls the larger man towards him, pressing his lips against Theodore’s.

Elliot moans into the kiss and Theodore slips his tongue into Elliot’s mouth, suckling and teasing. One of Theodore’s incisors catch on Elliot’s lip, drawing blood, and Theodore nips at the wound, beyond aroused. Their mouths part with a wet pop and Theodore’s pupils are so dilated his eyes are nearly black. His gaze is focused entirely on Elliot and they're both panting through swollen wet lips.

“Too stupid to go to an actual school, too scared to leave the fucking house – you can barely look mom and dad in the eyes when they’re around. You’re a fucking dog. A bitch in heat. Pathetic, stupid, useless.” He says it harsh and low, each stilted breath emphasized with a punishing thrust of his hips but his grip in Elliot’s hair softens to a caress.

"N-no," the omega gasps and Theodore's hand encompasses his dripping cock, tightening to the point of pain. Elliot writhers and fresh tears burst in his eyes, trickling down his flushed face.

“Theo!” Elliot sobs, reaching to claw at Theodore’s hand around his cock.

“You need me because you don’t have anyone else –” he pins down Elliot by his neck, forcing his swelling knot into Elliot’s leaking hole to catch.

“I’ll kill you before you can even think of leaving me,” he murmurs, and he says it like a confession but his hand's too-tight are around Elliot’s throat and he’s choking the boy as he comes, pumping his hot seed into Elliot’s guts while Elliot’s hole tightened around Theodore’s knot, milking it for all it’s worth. Elliot’s cock is spurting cum all over himself, splattering his stomach and chest white as the boy shakes through his orgasm.

Theodore imagines Elliot’s soft stomach round with child and he’s dizzy with desire. Their lips meet for a kiss; clashing teeth, trailing spit, and bloody lips –

_There are stars in Elliot’s eyes. For a moment he thinks he’s going to die, and all he can think about is twelve-year-old Theo tearing apart Ellie’s favourite bunny with his bare hands – digging his elegant fingers into albino eyes, ripping apart flesh and fur, and the panic in Theodore’s blue eyes when Ellie found them and started screaming. He thinks of Theo grabbing him tightly, begging him not to hate him, that he was being stupid and jealous, and telling Ellie he loved him._

_He remembers the fear and confusion, he remembers Theo’s lips on his – hard and desperate and then nothing. He remembers waking up the morning with no recollection his bunny, or Theodore, or bruising kisses, and Theodore’s piercing gaze on him, so familiar but colder, distant._

–until Elliot slackens in Theo’s grip, unconscious. Almost like an afterthought, Theodore releases Elliot’s neck and he can already see the discolourment soon to blossom into a nasty hand-shaped bruise. He slips his softened cock from Elliot’s cum drenched hole and traces his fingers gently over all the new aches and bruises. There's something dark and twisted in him, lingering in his touch, dwelling under the surface of his skin. It sings to him, to bite into the boy and consume him whole and raw – calling him to rip his brother apart and swallow each piece of him till they were one. He has him, delicate limbs, soft and light in his arms.

 

Helpless.

 

Softly, he drags his pointed teeth along the boy's jugular, the slack body is complaisant in his cradle –

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And, if the madness is indeed, gleaming black in his gaze –

 

If his hands are trembling to stop from clawing into the boy's flesh –

 

If his teeth look too sharp against the boy's throat –

 

 

 

 

 

...It's always darkest before the dawn.

 

 

 

 

 

 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**Author's Note:**

> woohoo
> 
> penis


End file.
